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Buffy Beaten update
🕑 Added 2020-03-09 18:00:02 +0000 UTC
Cordelia walked into biology class as if Mr. Stratford were personally waiting for her. He wasn’t at his desk, but she didn’t let that make any difference. She sat in the front row, crossing her long legs and pulling down her ridden up skirt. Cordelia didn’t pull it down all the way. Only enough to make her legs a little less interesting than they could be, which made them all the more interesting to the guy trying to figure out exactly how interesting they were.
Mr. Stratford came in as the bell rang. He dropped his briefcase on his desk and started to lecture them on French pronouns. Cordelia did her best to stay awake, or the best she felt like doing, which meant she ended up half-asleep. She didn’t see any need to learn about French. She spoke French. And if any French people didn’t understand her, that was their problem.
Unfortunately for her, Mr. Stratford didn’t understand. Which shouldn’t count, because he wasn’t even French, but she still needed to do something to get her average up. She planned to. Right after class, in fact. She had a free period in which she would study French her own way.
The dress she was wearing was how she would get her grades up. It wasn’t slutty. It didn’t expose anything. It wasn’t translucent. But it was white. It was short. It was very, very tight. Every curve of her body was accounted for. Her breasts made two perfectly round hills in the front of the dress. The hem hugged her thighs dearly and showed off the curviness of her ass with every inch she moved. Her body shone through the unobstructing dress like the work of art that it was.
She already knew Stratford was attracted to her. Sometimes she’d catch him watching her out of the corner of her eyes, seeing what she was showing off today: her legs or her boobs or just her tight little tummy. She was counting on turning that interest into a lot more. She was going to seduce Mr. Stratford every bit as much as she’d seduced Xander and that idiot Willow and even Conrad, in a way, even if she hadn’t quite been ready for just how seduced he’d been.
Mr. Stratford gave a quiz. As they all bent to work at it, he sat at his desk, eying Cordelia with as little subtlety as her dress deserved. Cordelia pretended to fill out the answer sheet, but she kept one eye on Mr. Stratford. As well as most of her thoughts. She wondered if, after all that looking, he’d come up with any good ideas about how to fuck her.
He looked at her legs. He looked away. He looked at her legs again. He looked away again. Mr. Stratford didn’t want to get caught staring at her body, no matter how good it looked. Cordelia decided he needed to care more about how she looked than about getting caught. She uncrossed her legs. She spread them open, pretending to be concentrating on the quiz. Mr. Stratford looked at her longer, harder, until she could almost feel how he’d touch her if he replaced his eyes with his hands.
Cordelia smiled to herself. She shut her legs again. As if on cue, Mr. Stratford got up and walked the rows of school desks, looking over everyone’s work as if he cared more about that than Cordelia’s long, bare legs.
Cordelia moaned. Mr. Stratford’s gaze shot to her. She turned it into a hum, like she was considering aloud some thorny problem, and while she had his attention, she opened her legs again. Wider than before. Much wider. They faced the empty desk. Mr. Stratford could see they were open, but not what was in between them.
Mr. Stratford went back to his desk, not bothering to finish his patrol, and sat down. Cordelia slyly paid attention as he slumped down in his chair, trying to see. Cordelia kept her legs open, but she pumped her thighs a little, open and shut, open and shut, momentarily obstructing the view and then revealing it. Mr. Stratford kept going lower. Soon he’d be able to look right at her panties. Only Cordelia wasn’t wearing any panties. It’d been so much better fucking Xander without them on. She didn’t want to go back to wearing them just yet. Maybe not ever.
Mr. Stratford spilled his coffee cup onto the floor when he realized. Everyone looked up. Not Cordelia. She had to hide her smile.
He quickly cleaned up the spill and then walked over to the corner of the classroom opposite the door, where he could stand sentry over the entire class. But not her. He tried not to look at her.
For about three minutes. Then he went back to his desk. He slumped in his seat. Cordelia’s legs were ready and waiting to give him a good look. They were almost on either side of her school desk. She pretended innocence by leaning forward and acting as if she was poring over her test. Her spread thighs pulled the short hem of her dress up. For those who knew where to look, her pussy was like a blinking neon sign, telling Mr. Stratford to obey. And it wasn’t just that he was some pathetic, big-dicked loser like Xander. Her pussy could get even mature adults to stop and stare.
Cordelia glanced up surreptitiously. Mr. Stratford wasn’t looking away anymore. He was staring straight at her cunt like a cat about to pounce on a bird.
The quiz’s time limit had been reached seven minutes ago. Almost everyone but the absolute burn-outs were finished with their answers, right or wrong. Cordelia didn’t know what did it, but Mr. Stratford remembered where he was. He called for the tests to be passed forward. Normally, he’d pick them up, but Cordelia guessed he didn’t want to give away what a big juicy hard-on he had in his slacks.
The papers were passed to the front. They went down the row to the far left. The boy there shuffled them together and handed them over onto Mr. Stratford’s desk. Stratford took the pile and squared it away.
The bell rang, saving Stratford from coming up with something to do that let him remain in his seat. All the students got up and headed for the door. Nonchalantly, Cordelia pulled her skirt down. She got out of her chair and followed the mass exodus, but outside the classroom, she lingered at a bank of lockers like hers was anywhere near there.
After everyone had left, she went back into the classroom. Mr. Stratford was still at his desk.
“Can I talk to you for a moment, Mr. Stratford?” she asked.
He rolled his chair firmly under the desk, letting it hide his lower body. “Of course, Cordelia.”
Cordelia closed the door to the classroom. She twisted the lock too. Then she walked up to Mr. Stratford’s desk, standing right in front of it. His face was at the same level as her groin: he sat there and she stood with her dress’s hemline cutting right across his vision. On one side, the tight dress molding itself to her most secret place. On the other side, her bare flesh, miles of long lean leg and some of the best shoes that the Sunnydale Mall had ever seen.
“What can I do for you?” Mr. Stratford asked, clearing his throat after he was done. He sounded like his voice had cracked.
“It’s about my grades?”
“What about them, Miss Chase? I thought you’d made it clear that the work you turned in was satisfactory to your standards?”
Something pinged in Cordelia’s mind—how odd it was that he was scoring points on her when she was supposed to be effortlessly dominating him, like she was used to doing with people her own age—but she dismissed it. He was a guy. All guys were like Xander. Totally pathetic and willing to do whatever she wanted; especially if they knew what was good for them.
“Listen, right now, with my grade in French, my average is an eighty-eight.”
“That’s not bad,” Mr. Stratford said evenly.
“It’s too bad for me. If my French grade was… ninety-four, then my average would jump all the way up to an A. And then my parents would buy me a car.”
“I suppose you’ll have to study harder.”
“I do study hard. I study a lot, but I just don’t get what you’re trying to teach me.”
“I’m afraid I can’t help you there.”
“I think you can.” Cordelia sat down on the left side of his desk, facing him—her and the skirt of her dress. His eyes made a detour from her face, but came back. “I was thinking you could give me a little private tutoring.”
“I’m sorry, I’m too busy for that kind of hands-on approach, Cordelia.”
“But I really want the hands-on approach, Mr. Stratford,” Cordelia pouted. She stood up. Her hands went to her skirt.
Stratford watched in astonishment as she slowly pulled her hem up, unveiling her hips, her groin, her ass. His eyes focused irretrievably on her bare sex, taking in every detail of her vulva.
“I think you would get a lot out of helping me, Mr. Stratford,” Cordelia said softly, her eyes flickering persuasively. She pulled her dress higher, up over her belly, her breasts, and finally above her head. She didn’t wear a bra any more than she did panties. She stood before him completely nude except for her heels, which hardly marred her nakedness. They were like an artist’s signature on a masterpiece.
Mr. Stratford sweated profusely. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he looked over Cordelia’s perfect, youthful nudity. He didn’t breathe, like he was worried his breath might disturb her perfection. He almost could’ve been turned to stone.
Cordelia’s eyes fell to his groin. One part of him actually had been, or at least so it appeared. She leaned over him, her firm, full breasts inches from the dazed look on his face.
“I really, really need you to teach me, Mr. Stratford,” she breathed.
His hands came up as if she were holding a weapon on him. “The door!” he gasped in a panic.
“Locked,” Cordelia told him.
She took his hands, stroking them with her fingers, before she pulled them to her naked tits. She rubbed his sweaty palms against her breasts, pressing her chest forward so they met more strongly, groaning as he gave the mounds of flesh an approving squeeze.
“Oh my,” Mr. Stratford sighed.
She looked him in the eye and saw there was too much need there for any man to fight, then she threw a leg over his lap, straddling him, facing him hungrily.
He stared almost hopelessly at her naked perfection, the decadent lushness of her body that his hands were actually permitted to touch. Letting out a long, shaking breath, he buried his face in her cleavage. He licked and kissed and bit at her breasts, all while she helpfully rubbed their voluptuousness in his face.
Stratford moved from one breast to the other, slurping at each nipple to find them equally fantastic, soaking her rounded flesh with his saliva. His hands went behind her back and clutched her greedily to pull her body into his.
Cordelia cooed, grinding her hips against him, rubbing her naked sex into his belly. Her fingers ran through his hair as he devoured her breasts. It was actually starting to turn her on. Not Stratford: even if he was okay-looking, he was as pathetic as Xander, just another guy with a dick so big it had to do all the thinking for him.
But what turned her on was how wanton she was being. She was totally naked, giving a lapdance to a teacher, right in the middle of school! She almost couldn’t believe what a dirty cunt she was being. But then, Xander had done it to her, and Conrad, and men only did that to dirty cunts. Or maybe only dirty cunts liked it. She had certainly liked it. She couldn’t seem not to like it, not matter how shitty the guys were. Their dicks were still hard; hard dicks made her come.
Stratford’s hands went down to her ass, feeling the creamy flesh that filled it out as she leaned against him. His fingers slid between her buttocks and touched her puckered asshole, but he couldn’t get to her pussy. Cordelia pulled his face against hers and kissed him. He returned it, his lips hungry for hers, his tongue dominating her mouth.
Cordelia reached down to his groin, her hands following the bulge of his erection all the way to his zipper. She pulled it down and her small hand went inside. She pulled his erect cock out. Cordelia was surprised by how big it was. It was one thing for Xander to have a big dick, that was just the universe playing its cosmic joke on her, but a high school teacher? Oh well—at least that would make this fun.
She closed her fist on his shaft and pointed it at her sex. She came up, squatted down, arranging his cockhead on her pussy. As she lowered herself, the lips of her pussy spread apart, letting him in. Cordelia groaned, only halfway having to fake it, and she splayed her chest back as she sank down. His manhood stood rigid as she impaled herself on it, cleaving the folds of her pussy, going deep inside of her.
“Ooooh,” Cordelia moaned, spreading her thighs, coming down onto the hilt of Mr. Stratford’s prick. She could feel his balls and his zipper and his pants pressed against her ass. She rolled her ass from side to side, its skin incredibly sensitive, picking up every hair and metal tooth and fiber of fabric as she kissed Stratford once more.
His hands flowed over her body, clutched her breasts again. Cordelia rose, letting several inches of his prick escape her body, then she came back down on it, absorbing his erection all the way back in. Putting her hands on his shoulders for balance, she fucked up and down, massaging his prick with her cunt, letting him use her body as he wanted while she used his cock to get herself off. She was starting to think that even if she didn’t need her grade bumped up, she’d enjoy being a dirty cunt just for the sake of being a dirty cunt.
Despite all her cheerleader stamina, her legs were rapidly tiring. Fucking took a lot out of her. Luckily, it didn’t look like Mr. Stratford was going to be able to resist her for long. His eyes were wide, his chest was heaving heavily. She hoped he didn’t have a heart attack. Wouldn’t that be so like a guy, pulling shit like that just when she was starting to enjoy herself?
His arms went around her waist, caging her in with him in a tight embrace. He held her motionless, his prick hilted in her sex. Mr. Stratford shivered and trembled and Cordelia gasped herself as she felt his flooding liquid go everywhere inside her. She’d thought that Xander had come a lot, but she guessed all men were like that.
As the ejaculation dragged on, she felt like a water balloon under a running faucet. Still, she smiled satisfyingly. Even if she hadn’t come, it’d felt nice. And she always had Xander to get her off. Plus, Willow didn’t want Mr. Stratford, she wanted Xander, so fucking him had all the fun of stealing another girl’s precious guy without any dumb bullshit about her being a ho. She wasn’t a ho. She was a dirty cunt. She held her breasts against Mr. Stratford’s face as he did what men do to dirty cunts.
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